Trail Diary
by knifethrower
Summary: The Appalachian Trail. 2100 miles from Georgia to Maine. Kagome, a runaway teen, and Sango, a woman with a past, set out on the adventure of a lifetime.
1. Chapter 1

"Appalachian Trail Diary" is a work of fan fiction and is not written for profit, only for entertainment. This author does not own "Inuyasha", which is owned by Rumiko Takahashi, Shogakukan, Yomiuri TV, Sunrise and Viz Media.

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April 1, 2009

My name is Kagome Higurashi, and this is my diary. This girl, Sango, gave it to me. It's really just a cheap spiral notebook, and she gave me the pencil I'm using to write in it. It's all chewed on, but I'm not gonna gripe, cause it's one of the few things I own that I didn't have to steal from that jerk, Mr. Bradley. The old canvas boy scout backpack that I'm carrying my stuff in? Stole it from Mr. Bradley. The steak knife I've got shoved in the waistband of my jeans? Stole it out of his kitchen, after I used it to stab him with. The jerk.

That's his April Fool's Day present from me. Mr. Bradley was my foster father. Actually he was just a big dumb asshole guy married to this woman that gets her money from Social Service, for taking in kids like me. I've been in plenty of foster homes, and this one wasn't that much worse than most of them, it's just I've got this problem. See, I just turned 15. And that's a problem. I was kind of a cute kid, and that wasn't so bad, but when I got into junior high, I started growing. You know. My legs started getting really long, and my chest started getting big, and jerks like Mr. Bradley started to think they could do whatever they want to me. But I guess Mr. Bradley learned otherwise. Mr. Bradley used to tell stories about the time he spent in Viet Nam. He was always talking about the prostitutes they had there. He called me his "cherry girl". Is that sick, or what?

Surprise, Mr. Bradley!!! Anyway, now I guess I'm in big trouble. 'Cause no matter how bad foster homes are, everybody knows that they're nothing compared to the places they send you when you do something really bad, like stab your foster dad in the chest with a steak knife. So I guess this whole mess is my April Fool's Day present, too.

I had a room down in the Bradley's basement, just a cot in one corner, really, with a musty sleeping bag to sleep in. Mr. Bradley kept his old crap down there, so when I knew I had to hit the road I grabbed his old green backpack, rolled up the sleeping bag, took the two pairs of jeans and two tee-shirts and two sweatshirts that I actually do own, and Mr. Bradley's old Carhartt jacket, and took off. My jacket, that I really owned, was pink and puffy. Mrs. Bradley bought it for me at the Goodwill. She gave the new jacket she was supposed to buy for me to her daughter, Sara. I kind of liked that pink jacket. It had Hello Kitty on it. But it was really bright, and I knew I didn't want to stand out, 'cause the cops were definitely going to come looking for me and Hello Kitty. I stuffed Hello Kitty in a garbage bag, and dumped it into the neighbor's dumpster. Fortunately for me, the TA is only a few miles from the Bradley's neighborhood, as the crow flies.

Do you know about the TA? It's a truck stop. Actually, I was born in the bathroom of a TA. One just outside of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. I guess my mom didn't want me, cause she left me there, in the sink. No diaper, no blanket, no nothing. And yeah, I'm not white, okay, or even black, for that matter. I'm part oriental, probably Japanese. That's why I grew up in foster care. Who wants a blue-eyed Japanese kid when you can adopt some nice white or black kid. Enough about that. I don't really care. So anyway, when I had to get away fast, the TA was the first place I thought of. Dumb kids steal cars, and then get caught. Dumb kids stand along side the road with their thumb out. If they're lucky, they get picked up by the cops. If they're not lucky, some perv picks them up and does something really bad to them. The trick is, you don't get in the ten-year-old Buick with the "Jesus Saves" bumper stickers on the fender. Nuh, uh. That's just asking for trouble. Smart kids like me know that if you need to get out of town fast, you go to a truck stop and try to hitch a ride with an over-the-road truck driver.

So I was in the diner at this truck stop, dipping fries in ketchup and trying to make them last. I had my eye out for a certain kind of guy. Who didn't look like a crackhead or Jeffrey Dahmer. Maybe a grandfatherly type, you know? Well, this wild looking chick wearing black leather pants and boots struts up to the counter, gets like twenty burgers, and a humungous coke, and sits right down at my table with me! She starts telling me the story of her life, like I really care or something, and I'm like, uh huh, uh huh. Sometimes real life is kind of like school, isn't it? So anyway, one thing I learned in school is, if some kid is dumb enough to sit at the same table as a loser like you, just be grateful, 'cause then you're not alone. The other thing is, they're probably some kind of a desperate loser too, or something, and they might just share some of those burgers with you….

Well, anyway, she DID share her burgers with me. She told me her name is Sango, no last name, and it turns out she's on her way to meet this guy in Atlanta, Georgia. She met him on the internet. I didn't tell her how dumb that is. She seems to be several years older than me, so if she doesn't know better, that's her tough luck.

It started raining out, and it turned really cold. Sango asked me where I was going, and I told her I was looking for a ride to Georgia, to go visit my grandmother. It was a really dumb lie. I mean, wouldn't you think it was kind of a strange coincidence if you meet some girl in a truck stop, and when you ask her where she's going, it's the same place as you? But I think Sango's kind of naïve, cause she didn't blink an eye when I said it. She just offered me a ride, and I took it. Now it's dark out, and the rain is just pouring down in buckets, and we're in this beat up little Volkswagen. Not like a 2000-model or anything. It's like the kind of car a hippy would have driven in the 60s or something. All rickety, and beat up, and doesn't even have shoulder harnesses, just seat belts that go across your lap. Sango may not know better than to go meet up with some guy she met on the internet, or pick up some kid at a truck stop, but she does seem to be a pretty good driver. The car even has a gearshift, and she seems to be able to handle it. Other than the clutch thing. Oh, well, she's a fast driver anyway, and she must be brave, because every time a big truck passes us, we get practically shoved off the road. My feet are getting wet because the floorboards of the car are rusted through.

I guess Sango could tell I was kind of nervous, so she started telling me about how she had always kept a diary, ever since she was a little girl. She told me to look in the little space between the seats. There was this notebook, with this old pencil shoved into the wire spiral thingy that held the book together. She told me it was mine, to keep. The amazing thing is, my new diary has a bright pink cover, just like my Hello Kitty jacket, which will no doubt end up in some landfill in New Jersey. So now I'm holding this little flashlight between my teeth, using it so I can see to write in my new diary. Sango says she can stay up all night, if she stops along the way for coffee. At the rate she's driving, we'll be in Atlanta in no time.


	2. Chapter 2

"Kagome, wake up." Sango was shaking my shoulder.

"Where are we?"

"Tennessee. Somewhere near Knoxville. I had to pull off the road for a pit stop. Do you have to use the bathroom?"

Rain was still beating on the roof and windows of the car, and the inside was pretty fogged up. I could see the lit up sign for a McDonald's through the gray blur, though. That sounded good. I looked over at Sango. She was in pretty rough shape. The inside of the car smelt like pot. Then I noticed she was holding something pink. "Hey! You took my diary!"

She stuck her tongue out, but she handed the notebook back to me.

"You never told me your name. You could have at least gone to the trouble of making one up. And that bogus story about visiting your granny in Atlanta was pretty lame. You can't assume everyone you meet is an idiot, kid."

"Are you going to call the cops?"

Sango looked at me for a long time, not saying anything. She looked kind of sad. "You ever been in trouble before, kid. I mean, in the justice system?

"A few times."

"You know they could charge you as an adult and send you to the can, even though you're a minor, right?"

"Yeah, I know."

"Real prison is no fun, Kagome. Believe you me, I've been there."

"You were in prison?"

"Yep."

Shit. I should have held out for a ride with a truck driver. "What were you in for?"

"Asking that is poor etiquette. But I'll tell you anyway, because if I were in your shoes, I'd definitely want to know. My boyfriend got nailed for selling drugs. To get off, he turned me in. It was kind of funny." She laughed, but it wasn't a happy laugh. "I met him at the gym where I worked. He seemed like such an awesome guy. Good looking, in great shape, all that. Within a week, he had moved in with me. He worked as a bartender in a fancy bar. He would have never gotten caught, either, except the money he made from selling drugs to his customers wasn't good enough. He was stealing their credit card information, too, and that's what they charged him with. One lousy count of illegal use of a financial transaction device. He got probation. In exchange, I got charged with running a drug house, manufacturing, and possession with intent to distribute."

"Oh, Sango."

"He didn't have any prior criminal history. I did. That's the breaks, kid, and that's why I asked if you've ever been in trouble before. Nobody can predict if you'll get off with a slap on the wrist, or…"

Sango had started to cry. I let her go for a few minutes, then asked, "so, what do we do now?"

"I really need a burger, and some fries, and a coke. But it's only…" She looked at her watch. "8 in the morning, so I guess I'm screwed. No way I'm eating those eggs."

"Sango, are we in trouble, like, money wise? I really appreciate your sharing your dinner with me last night, but you really don't have to pay my way, ya know?"

Sango looked a lot less sad, all of a sudden. "Why, kid, you got money?"

I suddenly felt like I should be more cautious. "A little. I've got like fifty bucks." Not enough to roll me for. I actually had taken three hundred out of Mr. Bradley's wallet, and had another two hundred of my own that I'd been hiding, in case of emergency.

"That's good. You can pay for some gas. We'll use the john, clean up a little, and get on the road. Can you make it if we skip breakfast?"

"No problem."

"Okay, a Petro." Filling the gas tank didn't cost as much as I expected. It only took like eight gallons of gas. Mr. Bradley had driven an Expedition, and that cost over a hundred dollars to fill up. Sango looked a lot better once she washed off the eye makeup that had run all over her face when she was crying. We got cokes and hit the road.

"So, Kagome, how old are you?" Sango asked.

She really smoked too much dope. She had just read my diary, where I said I was fifteen. "Fifteen."

"How old are you?"

"Fifteen, Sango, geeze. What's your problem?"

She looked over at me, squinting a little. "Sixteen. And a half. We'll get you some eyeliner. Maybe plum or sapphire. Blue mascara. That'll bring out the color of your eyes."

Sango was really into eye makeup. But I got the picture. If I was sixteen, I wasn't jailbait. I didn't need to be enrolled in school. All that. And with some makeup, she thought I'd pass.

"You're going to need to come up with a new name. Any ideas?"

I'd never thought about it. "No."

"Where'd the name Kagome come from?"

"Some social worker gave it to me. I guess she was hooked on Japanese anime. She decided to name me after this girl who fell down a magic well. Because, even when I was a baby, you could tell I was oriental."

"Fell down a well." Sango started to sing some old song. I'd heard it before. It was really old. Psychadellic. "Go ask Alice, when she was ten feet tall…" She was jerking her head in time to the music, which did not really exist. I noticed there was no radio in the dash. Probably a good thing.

"How about Alice, like "Alice in Wonderland?"

"I don't know, Sango. I guess it's okay."

"So, Alice, do you want to be my sister?"

"What?"

"We can tell people you're my little sister. Alice Della'Acqua. I love it." She started to hum happily. Plotting away.

"How do you spell it?" She told me, and I wrote it on the front cover of my diary. I started working on a picture of Hello Kitty, right underneath.

"There's a mall up ahead. We should be able to find you some make up. What do you got for shoes?"

I went to hold my foot up above the dash, but there was no room. "Converse All-Stars". They were pink, like my coat had been. But there was no way I was giving them up.

"I never told you what we're doing once we meet up with this guy in Atlanta. You're going to need some hiking boots, kid, 'cause we're going to be taking a really long walk in the woods."

There was a Wal-Mart at the mall. We got a cart, and picked out makeup, which took like forever. Sango said I could use her shampoo and stuff. She asked if I had a toothbrush. Dang! I knew I was forgetting a lot of things when I left the Bradley's. Yes! They had a Hello Kitty one! I threw it in the cart, even though there were cheaper toothbrushes there. Sango was smiling like crazy. I guess shopping made her happy. Next we found a pair of halfway decent hiking boots that felt comfortable, and were on sale. $39.99. Not cheap enough. I put them back. I was staring at a pack of neon markers that was on display at the end of the aisle. Sango grabbed the boots and threw them into the cart. Then she threw the markers in the cart with everything else.

"Sango, wait. I don't have a lot of money left. We're going to have to be careful not to spend too much."

"Give me a break, Alice. I know you've got more than forty-some bucks on you."

"Yeah, okay."

"You can trust me, Alice. Just nobody else, all right?"

"So, Alice, ready to hit the Golden Arches Supper Club?"


	3. Chapter 3

I turned over the page, and wrote neatly at the top. "April 2, 2009". I tapped the pencil against my teeth. Thinking of what to write next. "Harrisburg, PA to Knoxville, TN, 10 hours." I decided to add "approx." Since I had fallen asleep, I wasn't sure how long it had actually taken Sango to get us to Knoxville. Next I wrote "Knoxville, TN to Atlanta, GA." I didn't fill in that time yet. Sango said it would take like four hours, but we were going to stop and clean up when we got close to Atlanta. Next I started listing all the things we had bought at Wal-Mart. Toothbrush, Hairbrush, Wool Socks (2 pairs), Cotton Socks (2 pairs), Sports Bra (2), Shorts (1 pr.), Hiking Boots (1 pr.), Magic Markers, Mascara, Eyeliner, Eye shadow, Lip Gloss (Strawberry), Trac Phone (1 cheap one for me. Sango's already got one).

"Hey, Sango, do you think anyone will notice that I'm not white?"

"Probably, Kagome. I mean Alice."

"Don't you think that's kind of a problem, since we're supposed to be sisters?"

Sango was quiet for a moment, seeming to think. I was starting to realize she was smarter than I had originally thought, so I just kept quiet and let her do her thing. "The easiest explanation would be that you were adopted. If that hurts your feelings, we come up with something different, though, Alice."

Sango was so crazy. I would love to be adopted. That would mean someone wanted me. "I'm cool with that." I worked on my portrait of Hello Kitty, coloring in her hair bow with my neon markers. Then I wrote my new name over and over in different colors "Alice" "ALICE" "Alice Della'Acqua" "ALICE DELLA'ACQUA." Practicing my signature.

"Is Alice short for anything, Alice?"

"No, just Alice."

"Good. Do you have a middle name?"

"No."

"Good. What's your birthdate?"

"Umm." I opened up the back cover of the notebook, deciding that I would use the last page for figuring. "September 1, 1992"

"Make sure you memorize that. Now, let me tell you about your family in Buffalo, New York."

We spent a long time talking about Buffalo, which was actually Sango's real hometown. It sounded pretty interesting. I'd like to go there some time, in real life I mean. And her parents sounded really nice. She didn't have any real brothers or sisters, just me. By the time we started seeing signs for Atlanta, I had to use the bathroom really bad, and was feeling pretty grungy, so I was really relieved when Sango pulled off the highway into a Flying J. She had promised me a shower.

Sango had me buy a coke and sit down at a table in the restaurant area, while she worked the counter, looking for a truck driver to give her some shower coupons. I saw her talking to a really big girl. Like over 6 feet tall. They brought their food over to the table. Sango really liked those burgers, she had eight of them on her tray. No fries, though. She must not know much about eating balanced meals.

"Alice, this is Jak. Jak, meet my little sister, Alice."

"Hi, Alice." Jak said. She had a really nice voice, kind of husky and low, with a sweet southern accent. I noticed she wasn't looking into my eyes, though.

"Hey!" I said, annoyed.

"When I get mine, they're going to be just like that." She patted her own chest. Her nails were beautifully done, dark red with little diamonds set into them, to match her lipstick. She had a really pretty face, with a pointy little chin and big, shiny black eyes. Her skin was a rich, beautiful brown color, like hot cocoa. She sure was big, though. Her hands were big, too. I thought of an old Seinfeld rerun I had watched one time. Man hands. I giggled. Then I thought, 'Oh, shit."

We talked while we ate. Jak really was a boy, though he claimed he had been born as both. Yeah, right. He was getting surgery to fix that, though. He said he really had to watch his figure. He was serious about it too. He was eating a big salad, with no dressing, no croutons, no cheese. Drinking iced tea. No sugar. Sweet 'N Low. Yuk.

Sango told Jak we were spending the summer hiking the Appalachian Trail.

"I'm impressed, ladies. You're both gonna have buns of steel by the time your done with that ordeal." He gave Sango a couple of coupons for free showers. He had plenty of them, in the big wallet on a chain he had. I thought that was funny. He really should be carrying a little purse, right? But a free shower's a free shower. I made sure to say thank you, because he was really nice. He even did my nails for me, whipping out a manicure kit, and filing my nails so they were nice and smooth and even. He had noticed I liked pink, so he painted them a nice, light pink, and even stuck a little crystal flower on the corner of my pinky nail. Cute!

As he worked on my nails, Jak told us he was a licensed cosmetologist. I was so jealous when he told us that! I love to do hair. His hometown was Rocky Mount, North Carolina. His mom ran a beauty shop there, and Jak cut hair and did facials and artificial nails. Jak said he had always wanted to get away, to see the world and travel, so he had signed on with a big trucking company that promised to send him to truck driving school for free.

"Girl, listen to this. This here is a good lesson for you." Jak looked at me hard. Whatever he was going to say must be really important. "Always read the fine print."

"What?"

"Always read the fine print. I went to their school, which was pretty bogus. The papers I signed say the school's tuition cost like a billion dollars, and now I've got to work until it's all paid back. Turns out I hate driving truck. The beauty shop business must be in my blood. But there's no way I can pay the company their stupid money back, so I'm stuck working for them for two more years. I thought they outlawed slavery in this country." He mumbled something that rhymed with "bucket".

"Gee, Jak, that really sucks. Can't you just take off or something?"

"They'd sue my ass. Plus I need money to pay for my medical bills. You wouldn't believe how expensive that is. I guess I'm stuck driving truck for a good long time now." He perked up a little when a cute guy walked by. "At least there's plenty of hott guys that I can hook up with at the truck stops." He stood up. "Time to say bye-bye, ladies." He waggled his fingers at us. He was following the cute guy. Jak had a lot of self-confidence.

The showers were nice and clean, and the water was really hot. I was in heaven! Next to taking a nice hot two-hour bath, with lots of Mr. Bubble, a long hot shower is my second favorite thing on earth. Sango had a big backpack, the kind real serious hikers carry, and it was stuffed with shampoo and conditioner and all that good stuff. When Sango got dressed, she wore faded jeans with hiking boots and a cute tee shirt with a skull and cross-bones on it. She looked great, but I kind of missed the leathers. I changed into clean jeans and a clean tee shirt, too.

"Don't want to show up on this guys doorstep looking like a couple of biker chicks." She sat me down at the same table we were sitting at earlier. Jak came over and watched while Sango gave me a mini-makeover, sipping his iced tea and offering a lot of advice. I think Sango was getting a little annoyed. She was obviously no slouch with makeup herself. "Look down." She stroked on a layer of mascara. "Now look up."

"Your boyfriend get away from you, Jak?" She asked. "Hold still, Alice. This is going to sting a little." She took out a little bottle like nail polish comes in, and brushed some sticky goo on my lips. It did sting, but not too bad. "Lip Venom. It makes your lips look puffy." She covered the Lip Venom with a coat of pink lip gloss.

"We're meeting up later. I'm just killing time. Gotta keep my logbook legal, like I always tell my dispatcher when she tries to bully me. Stupid bitch."

Sango finished up, giving me her compact so I could see what I looked like. Wow! What a difference makeup makes! I've always avoided it. I have enough trouble with boys and men. But all that eyeliner and mascara and stuff really makes my eyes look big and blue. My lips looked, well, to use Jak's phrase, really hott.

"Thanks, Sango. You too, Jak. This is amazing. I never thought I was pretty before!"

"Thanks for all your help Jak. I guess it's time for us to hit the road."

Jak fished around in his big ass wallet, and handed me and Sango each a business card, white with zebra stripes on it. "This here's my cell number. I spend a lot of time in the south, there's a pie factory in Tarboro I load out of all the time. Give me a call, we'll have us some girl talk." He looked back over his shoulder and winked as he walked away.


End file.
